


big fish, small town

by enbyofdionysus



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Farmer's Market, First Meetings, M/M, Not!Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 08:31:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17019282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbyofdionysus/pseuds/enbyofdionysus
Summary: Ronan sells fruit and dairy at the Henrietta farmer’s market not because he needs the money, but because Declan told him if he wanted to be a farmer he had to actually act like a farmer, he couldn’t just take care of their father’s cows and live off the family money.





	big fish, small town

**Author's Note:**

> This is a not!fic fic that I'm posting here as a part of the Big Tumblr Purge.

Ronan sells fruit and dairy at the Henrietta farmer’s market not because he needs the money, but because Declan told him if he wanted to be a farmer he had to actually  _act_ like a farmer, he couldn’t just take care of their father’s cows and live off the family money.

So Ronan half-assedly sells his fruit and dairy at the farmer’s market, giving different people different prices depending on how much they piss him off.

But he ends up selling his stuff as cheaply as possible to the hot college kid that comes by his booth every Saturday.

It’s probably illegal or something to tell a big gruff man in a Metallica t-shirt that his plums are $10 a basket and feel some kind of rude joy when that same man scoffs at the price and walks away.

And then not five minutes later tell Hot College Boy that his plums are 75 cents a basket and $1 for two.

Hot College Boy – whose name is Adam, Ronan comes to learn after an exhausting amount of insults and flirting – always seems puzzled by how low the prices are.

“No offense,” Adam says in an accent that reminds Ronan of cool sweet tea on a hot summer day, “but how do you make money when your prices are so low?”

“My family runs a pretty big farm,” Ronan says with a shrug. “If I charged any higher, it’d be like inflation or what-the-fuck-ever.”

Frowning, Adam says, “I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Fine,” Ronan deadpans. “You got me. I charge by how hot my customers are.”

Adam tucks his head, but Ronan can see his smile.

Flustered and embarrassed, Ronan adds, “Don’t flatter yourself. I sold some organic milk to an 80-year-old woman earlier for 25 cents.”

“Damn,” says Adam, grinning, “I gotta go catch some hands with Gertrude then.”

Ronan laughs and then brings his wrist to his mouth, tugging on his leather bracelets with his teeth. “If you want,” he says, “I could show you the Barns. Get you a few things for free or whatever.”

Adam’s face was as bright as the sun. “Like a date?” he asks, turning ‘date’ into a two-syllable word.

Ronan can feel his skin reddening. For once, he curses his father’s Irish genes. “Fucking– sure, I guess, a date or whatever. Gay as shit. Yeah.”

Adam beams, his smile loose and amiable. “Okay.”

Ronan ends up shoving an entire basket of home-grown peanuts at him just to do something with his hands. Adam’s laugh is worth it.


End file.
